


A Time of Miracles

by xmoyashiii



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Hella romance, M/M, Slow Burn, THIS IS SO EXCITING, face it Erskine will be the best stepdad ever, oh my god I'm pioneering a ship tag, the Steve/Bucky is way in the future, they're like six
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3923986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmoyashiii/pseuds/xmoyashiii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Coffee?" she asks, quickly scrawling it all down on her pad. </p>
<p>"Yes, definitely coffee." There's a wry note to his voice that makes her smile, and when she looks up he's smiling too, and she realizes with a start that he's not nearly as old as the hair and the thick round glasses make him look. The humour in his eyes transforms his whole face. </p>
<p>She hopes sincerely that she's not blushing as she brings him his coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clang! A plate drops into the busboy’s tub. The clattering of silverware, a low murmur of conversation and laughter. The voice of the head cook shouting out orders and the line cooks replying seemingly all at once.

_Steve’s cough, rasping and deep and so constant it seems like he shouldn’t even have time to draw breath._

“Scrambled eggs and bacon, wholewheat toast! Over easy with white and hash browns! Ham and cheese omelette!”

_“Mama?” Steve’s whisper, so quiet, that wakes her from her half doze by his bedside. “I’m thirsty.”_

“Sarah! Wake up, girl, I’ve got six orders sitting up here getting cold while you stare into space!”

She starts so violently that she nearly drops the empty tray she'd been holding, then meets the head cook's eyes with a sheepish smile, already reaching for the plates sitting on the pass-through in front of her. "Sorry, Mike." Under the gruff manner she can see the worry in his eyes, and answers it with a shrug- for better or worse, nothing's changed since yesterday. She still doesn't know if this time it'll get better on its own or if it'll be another hospital stay. Another bill she can't afford.

Mike's expression doesn't change, but she knows him well enough to feel his sympathy. "You know the drill, girl," is all he says before turning away to get back to work. Pushing Steve out of her mind, Sarah does the same.

Most of their early-morning customers tend to be regulars, so it's a surprise when the little bell over the door jangles and Sarah looks up to see a complete stranger enter the diner. He's fairly nondescript, a middle-aged, nicely dressed man with graying hair and a briefcase, but when she goes over to take his order he smiles up at her with such kind eyes that she likes him immediately.

"I would like a ham and cheese omelette, please, with brown toast and bacon," he says, in a soft, heavily accented voice- German, she realizes. It's a very pleasant voice.

"Coffee?" she asks, quickly scrawling it all down on her pad.

"Yes, definitely coffee." There's a wry note to his voice that makes her smile, and when she looks up he's smiling too, and she realizes with a start that he's not nearly as old as the hair and the thick round glasses make him look. The humour in his eyes transforms his whole face.

She hopes sincerely that she's not blushing as she brings him his coffee.

**  
  
**Maybe it's just because none of them have seen Sarah look twice at a man in all the time they've known her, but the other waitresses absolutely will not let up on her about the mysterious man. He comes in to eat twice more that week, and they all pretend to be completely occupied with other tasks whenever he needs a refill on his coffee. Sarah's exasperated, and spends a lot of time rolling her eyes at them, but privately she can't really say she minds. **  
**

"How is your son?" he asks her that Friday morning as she's setting down the little tray of creamers next to his coffee mug, and she starts and looks at him with wide eyes, wondering for a delirious half second if he can read her mind. They've never made more than small talk, silly jokes about the weather or the coffee-

He has the grace to look sheepish, at least. "I heard you speaking to a lady on my way out yesterday." He nods towards the table nearest the door- Mrs. Schafer's usual seat. "She asked how your son was. You seemed... very tired."  

Sarah just looks at him for a moment; there's nothing but sympathy and concern in his expression, no pity and none of the morbid curiosity people often feel when they hear about Steve. _My son, the walking medical mystery. The boy who shouldn't even be alive_. She hates those people sometimes. They have _no_ idea what it's like.

"He's doing a little better today," she says finally, pulling her gaze away to pour his coffee. "Yesterday was rough. He, um... he gets sick a lot." Everything feels heavy all of a sudden- the half full pot in her hand, her eyelids, his sympathy- and she looks up, forces a smile. "Your breakfast will be out in a few minutes."

She takes her break early and calls Winnie, needing to hear her son's voice. Then she goes and sits in the alley behind the diner, rests her head on her folded arms, and cries. She feels Mike's big hand rest briefly on her shoulder as he passes her with a bag of trash for the dumpster, but otherwise everyone leaves her alone, and she's beyond grateful for it.

**  
  
**He leaves a note on the table, on a napkin; his writing is thin and spidery, and she almost smiles because it looks so much older than it should, just like him. _If there is anything I can do to help, please let me know_. **  
**

Under the note is a business card, and she reads it several times, wondering if this is some kind of joke or- maybe, finally, _finally_ \- an answer to some of the thousands of prayers she's prayed in the six years of Steve's life. _Dr. Abraham Erskine_ , it says simply, _Pediatric intensive care physician_.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! So sorry for the long wait on this chapter. I work in tourism so summer is INSANELY busy for me. Hopefully I can start getting these out more regularly now that it's getting close to fall. :D

“What do you think I should do?”

Winnie turns the business card over in her hands again, expression thoughtful. It’s four o’clock, and Sarah’s still in her uniform from the diner- she’d come right here after her shift, not wanting to wait to see Steve… or to tell her best friend about her encounter with Dr. Erskine. Sarah honestly doesn’t know what she’d do without Winnie Barnes; her careful advice has been just as valuable as her willingness to look after Steve every day while Sarah’s at work.

“I don’t think he could have any other reason for giving you this,” she says, voice gentle as always. “He can’t be looking for money- you said he was well dressed, and he must know how little you make.”

“He’s never been anything but kind,” Sarah mutters, gnawing on her thumbnail. She smiles ruefully when Winnie reaches over and pulls her hand away from her mouth automatically, a familiar gesture that never fails to remind her how long they’ve been friends. “He seemed genuinely concerned about me- about Steve.” She blushes at the slip, but Winnie just smiles knowingly and says nothing. “It’s just that the last thing I want to do is go to him expecting he’ll charge me less just because we’ve talked a few times at the diner, and then find out that I can’t afford him at all.”

Winnie nods. “Well, Steve’s a lot better today, so it seems like you’ll have time to think about it, at least,” she says. “But I think you should at least go see him, before Steve gets sick again and it becomes an emergency. Ask him about the money up front and it won’t be as embarrassing if it does turn out you’re on completely different pages.”

It seems so simple, put like that, and Sarah smiles across the table at her friend, about to thank her when Bucky comes quietly out of his mother’s bedroom and taps Sarah’s arm to get her attention. “Steve’s awake now,” he informs her, his young face serious, and Sarah resists the urge to scoop him up and kiss him. If there’s anyone in this world who adores Steve as much as she does, it’s this boy, and she can’t help loving him for that any more than she can help loving her own son.

“Thank you, Bucky,” she says, reaching out to run her fingers briefly through his perpetually messy hair, then standing to head towards Winnie’s room, where Steve’s been resting most of the day.

Steve is indeed awake, and seeing how much better he looks- how much better even than when she’d left him that morning- makes some of the tightness in her chest loosen. “Hey, sweetheart,” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss his forehead and trying not to think about how very small and frail he looks in the big double bed. “Bucky said you were feeling a little better.”

“He read me a bunch of books today,” Steve answers brightly, blue eyes shining up at her. Sarah’s sure she’ll never get over how he looks at her like she hung the moon. “And I slept a lot, but Winnie made the best soup _ever_.”

“Oh yeah? Better than mine?” she teases, sitting next to him. The sudden chagrin on his face makes her laugh. “It’s okay, baby. Winnie’s a really, really good cook. Tell me about the books you and Bucky read?”

  
  
When Steve’s in bed that night, after a dinner that he actually manages to eat a decent amount of- another sign that he’s well on the way to being as healthy as he ever is- Sarah does everything she can to avoid thinking about Dr. Erskine and his offer of assistance. Her talk with Winnie had made it easier to decide what to do, but that doesn’t take away the bitter taste of needing help in the first place.

Once she settles into bed herself, though, chores done and everything ready for the day ahead, she can’t distract herself anymore. It’s hard to think of it objectively when she remembers the doctor’s kind brown eyes; the sympathy in them that had so weighed on her earlier now feels like a lifeline she’s scrambling for in order to keep from drowning.

“I’ll call tomorrow,” she tells the card sitting innocuously on her bedside table next to her reading glasses. “Right after work.”

  
  
As it turns out, she doesn’t have to wait that long.

“Your boyfriend’s here,” Kate singsongs at her as they pass each other, Sarah with a coffeepot, Kate with an armload of dirty dishes. Sarah doesn’t dignify it with a response, but there’s a sudden nervous flutter in her stomach.

Dr. Erskine is sitting in his usual spot, and Sarah hesitates a second- just long enough for him to look up, spot her, and give her a little wave. Feeling silly, she waves back, then gestures at him that she’ll be over in a second.

In the time it takes to pour coffee at her other three tables and get back over to his, she’s decided that she won’t ask him about his offer, not right now. It’s unprofessional, she thinks, to do it here… not to mention that if the conversation is as awkward as she suspects it could be, she selfishly doesn’t want that awkwardness to happen here, not when she’s gotten so used to seeing him in that spot nearly every morning. She doesn’t want anything to tempt him not to come back.

“Sarah,” he greets her with that warm smile of his. “You look better today. How is your son?”

She smiles back, able to do so today, with Steve’s fever down to a bare hint of extra warmth on his skin; he was sitting on Winnie’s living room floor when she left, playing Legos with Bucky and eagerly anticipating the pancakes Winnie had promised. “He’s much better. His fever broke yesterday.” She hesitates, but he doesn’t.

“You got my note, yes?” He peers up at her, not waiting for an answer- he can see one in her face, she’s sure. “Have you considered it? I would greatly like to help, and I hope it is not too presumptuous to say that I would like to do so without thought to cost, as a favour to a friend.”

Sarah sets the coffeepot down on the table with a soft clunk, trying to figure out what to process first. “I don’t know what to say,” she says faintly. “It’s… that’s a pretty big favour.” She’s been trying to save up to see a specialist for most of Steve’s life, so she’s well aware just how much he’s offering.

He smiles again, a little ruefully. “You think this is too much for someone who does not know you well,” he guesses, and she nods. “I understand. Do you have a moment to sit with me? I would not want to get you in trouble.”

Sarah glances back at the kitchen; the diner’s not busy yet, and she knows that Kate can easily handle her own tables plus Sarah’s for the time being. Kate’s already watching, and makes a shooing motion with her hands the second Sarah looks her way. Flashing her a grateful smile, Sarah pulls out the chair across from the doctor’s and sits in it with a little less grace than she’d like, tired and still rather stunned.

He takes a moment- to gather his thoughts, she thinks- while his hands absently fold the napkin in front of him into smaller and smaller squares. “I think the best way to explain, if perhaps not the most tactful,” he begins with a little chuckle, “is to say that while to you it is a great deal- financially speaking- to me it is, comparatively, very little. I am able to live more than comfortably and have savings that ensure my security well into retirement if I continue to work for a reasonable number of years. To me, doing this is no sacrifice, and I very much wish for you not to feel guilt or obligation of any kind if you should accept my offer.” He pauses, then, and when he speaks again his voice is quieter, so soft she has to lean in a little to hear. “I… do not have many friends, and I have come to greatly enjoy your presence in my mornings. Knowing that you handle such a burden on your own, and doing nothing about it when I so easily could… it would simply feel wrong.”

There’s a long silence between them, the sounds of the diner filtering into Sarah’s consciousness gradually, as if everything around her is moving at the same slow, weighty pace as her mind. “Let me think about it,” she repeats finally, but softer this time, and she can’t help the shy smile tugging at her lips. “I promise I will. Think about it, I mean- about everything you’ve said.”

“That’s all I can ask,” he says, immediate and sincere, and she has to flex her hands a little to remind them to stay where they are, to not give in to the temptation to reach out and hug him. “I am sure I should not take up any more of your time just now.”

Remembering, finally, where she is, she stands quickly and grabs for the coffeepot with a laugh that comes out a bit breathless. “Shall I bring you the usual, then?”

“Yes, please,” he agrees amicably. “Thank you, Sarah.”

  
  
She passes the rest of the day in a daze, smiling brightly enough at her customers that a few of them jokingly ask if she won the lottery; when she gets to Winnie’s after her shift, her friend barely has to glance at her face to know.

“I told you,” she crows, even before saying hello, and ushers Sarah into the apartment with fluttering hands. “Come on, tell me everything!”

Sarah does. “I told him I’d think about it, but…” She trails off and shrugs helplessly. The decision is already made. For the sake of her son, she’d swallow her pride even if the offer hadn’t been so kindly put, so without strings of any sort attached. “It doesn’t really need much thought, does it?” she says a bit ruefully. “I’d be a fool not to accept.”

“Yes, you would,” Winnie agrees decisively. “I’m so happy for you, Sarah. Finally, something’s starting to turn around.” She puts her arm around her friend and kisses the top of Sarah’s blonde head. “About damn time, after how hard you’ve worked all these years.”

Later, when Steve’s in bed and the supper dishes are cleaned up, Sarah sits down on the couch and stares at the phone in front of her, stomach fluttering with nervousness. It’s unfounded and a little ridiculous, she knows- office hours will be long over, so she’ll only be calling to leave a message. Still, even calling his office seems like a step further than sitting and talking to him at the diner.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she whispers, shaking her head and picking up the receiver. She dials the number on the card without giving herself time to chicken out, and listens to it ring five times before the answering machine picks up. She’d expected a receptionist’s voice, some perky cheerful woman, and she starts a little in shock when it’s _his_ voice instead, that soft, gentle voice with the lingering hints of his accent. For a wild instant Sarah wonders if he’s actually still in the office at nine PM- and doesn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when she realizes it really is just the answering machine.

“You have reached Dr. Erskine’s office. Office hours are eight AM to six PM on weekdays, and ten AM to four PM on weekends. Please leave a detailed message after the tone, including your name and contact number, and I will get back to you as soon as possible. If your concern is urgent, please go to the emergency room or contact the urgent care helpline.” He reads out the number slowly twice, and Sarah starts a little when the tone sounds, almost having forgotten what she was calling for. _Ridiculous woman. You’re acting like a sixteen-year-old girl with a crush. Just leave the damn message._

“Hi, Dr. Erskine. It’s Sarah. Um, Sarah Rogers. From the diner.” _Could you be any more awkward?_ “I just wanted to let you know… I thought about your offer, and… I want to accept. Thank you again, it’s… very generous. Um, I guess you can give me a call after work to talk about it- I get home at about five most days.”

She very, very nearly hangs up without leaving her number, and has to scramble to pull the receiver back up to her ear. “Sorry, right, I guess you need my number to call me.” She lists it off, then hangs up quickly, cheeks burning. She can’t help but laugh at herself, though, in spite of her embarrassment- whatever receptionist checks the messages the next morning will most definitely have a good chuckle over hers!

Standing, she heads to the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair, then stops by Steve’s room on the way to her own. He’s sound asleep, mouth open and breathing relatively normal, marred only by the usual rasp of his asthmatic lungs, but steady and deep. She watches him for a few minutes, standing in the doorway; he’s so small, so frail, but for the first time she can look at him with hope instead of guilt and despair. “It’s gonna be okay now, Stevie,” she whispers, smiling, and closes the door gently behind her. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This lovely mess is totally thanks to [nanocannon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanocannon), who RPed this pairing with me until I couldn't NOT share it with the world. 
> 
> Please PLEASE feel free to correct me on anything I get wrong re: the American healthcare system. I'm Canadian and we know fuck-all about your weird healthcare. :D


End file.
